her awesome blog here), Travis, Crystal and Thomas [Tangent: Crystal and her hubby, Marc, have a booth in Wilson Hall where they sell their awesome Olivia Frankenstein creations.] and were stoked to have some fun! Anyway, as soon as we pulled into the parking area, the wind got knocked out of our junk-deprived sails...we had to park down a huge hill and across the entire parking (which has NEVER happened to us before) and were running on little sleep and less hydration. This distance was made even greater by the fact that it was hotter than a crotch outside. [Tangent: Seriously, whoever told me it was going to be "a nice cool day" was sorely mistaken. "Nice for August" is still very unpleasant. Lesson learned. ]
we got inside and met up with our friends, I was fine [Tangent: The perks of not having to actually walk long distances!] but I could tell
Jamie wasn't in it to win it. He was being more quiet than normal and
was starting to roam aimlessly. It was clear he was fading fast [Tangent: And likely regretting his decision to do jeans and a black tshirt.], so I suggested he go to his happy place- the vendors that were inside (out of the sun) and had records that he could dig through. [Tangent: Seriously Jamie's idea of heaven is crates and crates of records that are categorized properly and priced to move. I appreciate them, but get bored easily in that environment. I can only spend about 15 minutes doing it before I need a scenic shift.]
While he was elbow deep in vinyl, something at a nearby booth spoke to me...and by spoke to me, I mean screamed in a shrilll yell, "KIMMIE!!! YOU NEED ME!!!! TAKE ME HOME!!!" [Tangent: And now it wasn't something emblazoned with a rebel flag...although those are alive and kickin all over the fairgrounds no matter how much their display is banned.] Behold a framed picture of Becky, the wheelchair Barbie, clutching a skull over her head.
I'm so pleased Rae so perfectly encapsulated the rapture on my face! Was it an ode to Hamlet or death metal? Who the hell even knows? [Tangent: When I got home, I tried to google "wheelchair barbie holding skull" but not unsurprisingly, my searches were fruitless. I only found standard wheelchair Becky dolls. Yawn. I can only assume this was the only print from an amatuer photographer with my kind of weirdo sensibilities. In my wildest dreams it's the work of Al Carbee, the subject of the documentary Magical Universe that I reviewed here. Whoever it belonged to, they originally loved it enough to professionally frame it. ] Regardless of the allusions, it was so definitively me that I could imagine no other human owning it. As much as I wanted to haggle with the nice vendor in a John Water's t-shirt and corduroy shortie shorts, I quickly gave in and paid full price. I am so excited to display this on my desk at work! I know you're jealous!